


Incandescence

by StormXPadme



Category: The Lord of the Rings (Movies), The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Anal Sex, BDSM, Butt Plugs, Casual Sex, Elrond needs a vodka and a lobotomy, Fourth Age, Friends to Lovers, Gags, Library Sex, M/M, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Public Sex, Restraints, Rivendell | Imladris, Second Age, Third Age, War of the Last Alliance, part time boyfriends with more issues than imladris daily, you can pry librarian!Erestor from my cold dead hands
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-16
Updated: 2020-01-16
Packaged: 2021-02-27 08:34:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,654
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22284193
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StormXPadme/pseuds/StormXPadme
Summary: Glorfindel and Erestor have a very liberal understanding of the word privacy when it comes to sex.
Relationships: Erestor/Glorfindel (Tolkien)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 47
Collections: Arda Needs More Pride





	Incandescence

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Arda Needs More Pride 1/2020, day two/Second Age.

When Glorfindel comes back from the dead, Erestor is still there. He is still an asshole and he still looks ridiculous with a sword – someone really needs to give that kid a sandwich.

But there is no denying that the scrawny boy is very much a grown up now, and he is quite the sight too, with these stern features, ridiculously soft raven hair and eyes as dark as his humor. Also, when he enters a room, the average intelligence quotient is raised by 200 %. And when Erestor stares Gil-galad down for the first time in a morning meeting, Glorfindel’s dick gives that certain interested twitch that always means as much as, oh no, that elf is hot.

Glorfindel doesn’t act on it though, because he is sure, Erestor couldn’t be less interested. They are friends, they always were. The King said, Erestor has not left his side after Glorfindel was brought in, because after Glorfindel’s return, his voice was the only thing keeping the nightmares away. At least, after Erestor was done yelling at him for an hour straight, for getting in the way of a fire demon.

Glorfindel doesn’t remember much of these days, but he remembers that voice. It was Gondolin. It was home. It was good.

Since he is back on his feet and his job, there hasn’t been much contact. Erestor is busy doing what he’s being best at – bitching at everyone until they know what to do without making matters even worse –, and Glorfindel has to get too many younglings into shape before the number of losses can rise even further. There is no time for privacy. Besides, Erestor doesn’t seem like the type for casual fun, especially not with a soldier.

That is what Glorfindel thinks until he catches Erestor getting himself off in an empty tent with Glorfindel’s name on his lips. Which is awkward only until Erestor shows a lopsided grin and asks him to give him a hand. Glorfindel is just too happy to. He also swallows him down whole, and it turns out, Erestor is a screamer.

Which is okay. The screams from the sick tents and the battlefields are still louder.

It takes Erestor exactly one night to find out, Glorfindel hates open fire these days, and five minutes to convince him to trade cots, so he’s sleeping far from the sparks and the cracking wood. It’s only weeks until they mostly sleep in one bed anyway. In some nights at least, they sleep. In more of them, they fuck. Then they talk, and they rest their troubled minds in each other’s arms and then maybe fuck some more.

In fewer nights, Glorfindel holds Erestor when he is crying, making sure that no one else sees. And Erestor never forgets to braid Glorfindel’s hair before he leaves for training or battle.

But more than anything, they need to let off steam. Soon enough they discover, they are really good at that. Unfortunately, they are not too good at keeping it down, but the others are polite enough to ignore them.

Some frown upon them, but in the end, it’s their business. Glorfindel already had to share more details of his quite active sex life with a Valar in the Halls of Waiting than he ever cared to. The powers that are, they are not too pleased. But Glorfindel and Erestor aren’t, they were never and they won’t ever be the only ones who seek distraction without bonding.

Admittedly, most probably do it more discreet than they bother to.

Glorfindel can’t help it; Erestor bites through most gags, and admittedly … When Glorfindel himself is bent over some stack of supply boxes and has an attractive advisor fuck him through another sleepless night of too many memories, the last thing on his mind is trying to keep his voice quiet.

Most Imladris elves are probably mostly thankful when the war is over because they think, now Glorfindel and Erestor can finally get a room.

Those fools.

Erestor is still a workaholic; besides, he doesn’t like to be locked in his chambers – he has had enough of that in his childhood –, so he mostly sleeps in the library. It takes them two full years until they fucked against approximately every shelf and in every corner. After that, they discover that they have both a thing for the smell in the armory. Now Glorfindel’s soldiers are just as little safe as the library visitors from running in on them, when Glorfindel has his fingers, cock or tongue up Erestor’s wickedly tight backside or vice versa. By now, they probably traumatized half of the population.

Elrond more than once threatens to banish them if they don’t start keeping it to their beds. They are fortunate that the Lord cannot do without either of them. Besides, the leaders of both Lórien and Lindon have already stated, they’re not welcome there until they rein in their libido, and Mirkwood … Well, while the thought of a palace with lots of dark corners has its appeal, it’s really not worth putting up with Thranduil’s daily hissy fits.

Besides, rumor has it, the King has a thing for the captain of his guard sucking him off while he’s sitting on his throne. There are things that even Glorfindel and Erestor couldn’t wash from their eyes.

They like Imladris just fine anyway. It is a good place to recover from the war. And the excitement of spending most of their free minutes trying to outdo each other with new positions, games and toys, keeps the worst of memories and nightmares away.

In fact, some weeks after Elrond’s newfound spouse moved into the city and things have calmed down, Glorfindel is just busy trying out an especially evil, blunt-spiked wooden phallus on Erestor’s already well fucked hole when there’s steps outside the library door. They shrug and move on – well, Glorfindel shrugs, Erestor, he has too tightly bound over his own desk to move much. If someone doesn’t mind their noise, they’ll just get their book without passing by the office, and the others will come back later.

Only instead of searching the shelves or turning back, the two visitors suddenly end up in a chair in one of the reading corners, nearly knocking it over in their haste. Though Glorfindel can’t see them from here, the telltale noise of sweaty skin slapping and obscene moaning from a somehow familiar sounding voice really says it all. Since Erestor has his mouth too full to complain for once – thank Eru for small favors –, Glorfindel sees it as his duty to shout over to the other side of the shelves that this room is occupied, thank you very much.

In spite of having Erestor’s quite busy tongue on him, he’s never had an erection go down as quickly as when Lord Elrond smugly announces that this is very much his valley and that they are welcome to continue in their assigned rooms. He’s also never untied knots so fast in his whole life.

They somehow make it to get clothed before their new Lady can get the idea of trying to see what they are being up to. Glorfindel leaves the toy where it is for good measure because really, Erestor deserves it, he should have seen that one coming. Elrond, after all, is the only one who can outsmart him. Unfortunately, they can’t get out without passing that certain corner, and Glorfindel will need a new tour through the halls of the dead to wipe clean the memory of a certain Noldo Lord bent over a precum stained leather chair, getting his naked behind spanked by Galadriel’s daughter.

Erestor and him make an agreement to never talk about this afternoon. Ever.

But after that, they discover pretty quickly that beds and locks do have one or the other advantage. Eventually, the talks of Imladris inhabitants with a notoriously liberal definition of boundaries start to go down in the realms.

That is, until Elrond’s foster son Estel comes of age and decides that he needs some training of other kind, outside of battlefields, to get ready for marrying Elrond’s beloved youngest kid one day. Suddenly no dark corner in Imladris seems to be safe from the sight of a half-naked, way too hairy and way too horny youngling getting fucked by yet another elven soldier.

It’s that year when Glorfindel and Erestor decide that when all of this is over, and if this time, they actually both make it out alive of shit going down, this will be a pretty good chance to see how many remote places exist across the sea.

They do make it, actually, with one or the other scar more though, and with more regret in the end than they should feel about leaving a place behind that always manages to fuck itself up somehow. They decide to ease the pain of parting by finally doing what they’ve avoided for two ages: admitting that they can’t do without that other idiot by their side for longer than a few years in a row, and that they might as well make that official.

There is a big ceremony because Elrond insists, and it’s probably the last of its kind in Imladris. When they finally have some insultingly pompous rings on and withdraw to their new common chambers to try out some other kind of rings – the twins’ wedding presents, which really shouldn’t be as hilarious as it is –, it is without much shock for them to realize that in fact, they are already bonded.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, Glorfindel is pretty sure he can quietly hear Mandos laugh.

Shrugging, he pulls his lover back in his arms and onto his rock hard cock and kisses the dumbfounded look off these pretty lips.

Who knows. Maybe this second try in that crap show called life is not so bad after all.


End file.
